The Simpsons: First and Foremost
by Tallictr
Summary: Being the oldest of four children was Ford's burden in life; not counting being born a Simpson. Well, he actually loved being a Simpson. And the oldest. He loved his family, the misadventures they had together, and the good times that came with both. In fact, he couldn't imagine his life as anyone other than him. Maybe that meant he was weird...but it also meant he was happy.
1. Chapter 1

Clifford 'Ford' Simpson woke up much like he did every other morning for the past seventeen years; ready to start the day. The Sun had yet to come up, meaning he would be the only one awake for another two hours; which is how long it would take for him to wash the dishes, put away the dry ones, sweep the floor, clean the bathrooms, start a load of laundry, and make breakfast.

He enjoyed doing his morning ritual as it allowed him to put together his thoughts for the day. The rest of his family, though he loved them dearly, were too crazy in the mornings for him to deal with.

After finishing up breakfast, leaving the plates of food in the oven to keep warm, he made his way to the bathroom he'd just cleaned and took a nice, hot shower. There was nothing he loved more than spending ten minutes taking a relaxing shower.

That was also a benefit being up the earliest provided him. He always got to take the longest showers with the hottest water.

Getting out, he took a minute to dry off before combing his hair and looking at himself in the mirror. He took pride in his full head of hair. His father said that ford looked a lot like him when he was his age minus the face full of pimples that Ford made sure to void getting through a good diet and prescription strength medication.

At first, Ford almost had a meltdown at the prospect of going bald by the time he was thirty. But after going through some family photo albums he realized that Homer's hair started visibly going away around the same time Bart turned one.

And if the last ten years with Bart had been any sort of indicator, Homer's baldness was definitely stress related. He couldn't deny his little brother was a menace to the rest of the world. Then again, what ten-year-old boy wasn't?

Going into his room, his grandfather's old room, Ford picked out a black t-shirt, hoodie, blue jeans, and a pair of boots. It was easy to tell what was his and what was the rest of the family's since he was the slimmest one there aside from his mother.

He quickly got dressed, the downside of taking a hot shower was the cold air outside the bathroom, and headed back to the kitchen to check the food. The oven went on the fritz sometimes, so there was a possibility the food might be slightly blackened.

Opening the oven and seeing the food was perfect, he closed back up and left the room to check on Maggie.

'Sleeping peacefully, like she always does right before it happens.' He looked down on his little sister, taking in her sleeping form. He loved all three of his younger siblings. But out of all of them, Maggie held the biggest spot in his heart.

'She usually begins to get fussy right around…' Soft cries began to fill the room. '…now. It's almost clockwork.' Reaching into the crib, he picked Maggie up and began walking around the room.

He smiled as her little hands reached out for his face. She didn't want her bottle, she didn't smell, and he she hadn't needed to be burped either. "Uh-huh. I knew it. You just want me to hold you, don't you? Well you're lucky. I _like_ holding you."

Maggie let out a cooing noise, which Ford playfully took as an admission of guilt.

Once she fell asleep in his arms, Ford placed her back down in her crib and crept back to the kitchen. This time he took the food out and placed it in top of the stove, turning off the oven and placing some plates and silverware on the table.

He served himself some eggs and bacon, poured some orange juice in one of Bart's Radioactive Man plastic cups and ate breakfast by himself. Looking at the clock, he had about 3…2…1…

An alarm from his parents' room went off. The first of three alarms to wake Homer up so he wouldn't be late to work at the plant.

His mother, of course, was always ready to start the day by the first one. Which was why her plate at the table already had food on it by the time she came down.

Marge Simpson was a woman who liked being housewife. She enjoyed taking care of her children, even if they gave her hell while she did. She kept Bart in line and focused on his schoolwork, spent time taking Lisa to and from her saxophone lessons and helping with school projects, and had Maggie attached to her hip the entire day.

And she loved every minute of it. Ford, however, was the only one of her children, Homer included, who didn't need or even want her to take care of him. From an early age, he was a big proponent of being independent.

He wanted to crawl or walk wherever he went, he wanted to feed himself, dress himself, clean up after himself, and do all the things that Marge would normally do on his own.

To Marge, Ford was her firstborn who she'd watched grow up for seven whole years before getting pregnant once again.

At first, she had a hard time accepting it. Her sweet little angel was suddenly wanting to grow up before she was ready to even face that catastrophe. But it wasn't as though Ford could help it. He was just a naturally mature person.

Now that he was seventeen, though, he'd already had a good thirteen years of wearing down his parents to let him be. And now that Maggie was a part of their lives, Marge had to admit that life was good this way. Better than what it could be, even.

Instead of being overwhelmed with taking care of her family by herself, she had someone to help her. While Homer was focused on work most of the time, as well as avoiding most of his other responsibilities, having the housework split between two people was a load off her shoulders.

The deal was that Ford took care of the household chores while Marge dealt with Bart, Lisa, and Maggie. The unspoken part was that Homer would earn his paycheck as his contribution. The two feared that saying anything to him would result in it backfiring in their faces.

"Good morning, mom. I made eggs and bacon and your plates already on the table." Ford walked around the table, kissing her on the cheek before going back upstairs. Alarm two just went off, meaning he needed to go up and wake Bart and Lisa.

He knocked on Bart's door before going in. 'Ugh. This kid's room is _always_ a mess. I thought told him to clean it up.' He placed a hand on Bart's shoulder, shaking him awake. "C'mon Bart. It's time for you to get up. If you don't you'll miss the bus."

He heard what he felt was the fakest snore to date and could tell Bart was just pretending to be asleep. Ford knew that he was a light sleeper and was probably woken up by the sound of him showering. "And if you miss the bus and force either mom or me to drop you off…" he leaned in.

"I'm going to pound you into the ground _twerp_." His eyes shot open, the fear of getting one of Ford's poundings scaring him out of his pretend slumber.

"I'm up! I'm up!" He shot out of the bed and into the bathroom, seeking to avoid getting an Indian burn or a charlie horse or, worse, a dead leg. Punishments that he'd frequently get from his older brother when he did something that annoyed or upset him.

Ford had mixed feelings about his butthead of a little brother. Bart was an okay kid if you could get past the rough parts of his personality. Ford genuinely enjoyed the times that the two spent trying to help Bart catch up to the rest of the kids from his grade study-wise.

(Something they had been doing for the past few months.)

It was those times during the weekday nights that the two really got a chance to hang out together that was more than just Ford smacking him around for doing something stupid and otherwise destructive.

Bart may have appeared to not care at all about school on the surface, but it was a rather large insecurity issue he dealt with internally. Too afraid of being ridiculed to ask for help and too free spirited to try his absolute hardest to get by without needing it.

The kid was stuck between a hard place and a rock before Ford stepped in. And Bart, admittedly, was afraid of what his older brother might say. Or _do_. He'd usually be so gentle and caring with Lisa and Maggie whenever he was around them.

But with Bart, it was strictly a 'If you annoy me or I catch you doing something you shouldn't be doing I'll beat the crap out of you' kind of relationship.

Instead, he found himself sitting next to him as they went through his homework and test reviews together. Before that moment, he'd never realized how much his brother actually cared about him.

Things were more or less the same after that, but Bart was managing to maintain a C average. So at least there was some progress going on.

While Bart was busy showering, Lisa came next. He knocked on her door, waiting a second before opening it and going in.

"Lisa? You awake yet?" He gently shook his little sister, not being as rough with her as he had been with Bart. She never gave him much trouble beyond the spats she'd get into with their brother.

After a few seconds, she mumbled in her sleep. "C'mon Lisa. It's time for school." More mumbling. "If you're late, you'll miss the bus~" If anything, the thought of riding a bus full of kids who'd ridicule her sent her into a deeper sleep.

He leaned in close. "If you miss the bus…you'll be late for school…which means you'll be missing out on what was it you were excited about yesterday? The first day of the book fair?"

 _That_ did the trick. He inwardly sighed as she shot straight up, much like Bart had. Only, it was the threat of missing a school book fair rather than a beat down.

'Oh~ Lisa. You are _such_ a nerd.' He couldn't help but shake his head as he fondly commented on her passion for being a good student.

And hell, Ford knew he was even smarter than she was _and_ liked to learn just as much as she did. He had self-diagnosed himself as a genius, or just really, really smart, when he turned eleven after managing to memorize and comprehend over half the words in the dictionary in only six days.

The difference was that he kept it under wraps. There was no sense in letting other people know exactly how smart he was. They'd only bother him about it with their plans and ideas for his future. At least, he could see his mother doing that.

There was no doubt they'd be plans that weren't his own and would hold none of his interest because the thing is, he already knew where he wanted to go in life after school was over for him.

While it would have seemed like a bad idea to his mother had he told her, as well as any sane person in Springfield who heard it, Ford felt that working in the powerplant was the best way to go in terms of a steady paycheck.

Contrary to what one might expect, the amount of money Mr. Burns paid his workers were pretty standard fare. The only reason the Simpsons struggled was because Homer liked to drink, the kids were given allowances, six people meant six times the amount of water and electricity the water and electric companies charged for, and the fact that these bills were being taken care of with a single man's salary.

Ford recognized the need for an additional income. The way they were just barely scraping by was unsettling. Should any of them have some sort of serious injury, say a heart attack because his family's eating habits were atrocious, their savings more than likely wouldn't be able to support the costs.

Thinking along those lines sent him into full blown panic mode. Ford's family was his everything. And because they were his everything, he'd spent the last three years researching and studying everything he'd need to know about operating, repairing, inspecting, and maintaining a powerplant like the one in Springfield.

With a combination of books from the Springfield Public Library and the unwisely unused manuals and handguides from the powerplant facility itself, Ford was able to become more knowledgeable on the subject than his father was.

If you wanted to find a more learned mind on the subject of nuclear plants in all of Springfield, you couldn't. And yet he could only hope Mr. Burns would hire him despite his young age.

Lisa was about to jump out of bed but was stopped by Ford's arm. "Hold your horses. Bart's in the shower already and I don't think you want to run into him in there." She giggled at her brothers grossed out face.

"So…I was thinking. Maybe we could hang out tonight. Just you and me." Lisa smiled, overjoyed that Ford finally wanted to spend some time with her. It felt as though they hadn't really spent any time together over the past couple of months.

Her relationship with her oldest brother was the single greatest thing in her young life. She had always connected with him the most out of everyone in her family. Her father was kind of an idiot, her mother lived in her own world of naïve ideals, Bart was her polar opposite in every possible way, and Maggie was just a baby.

But Ford? Somehow…Ford always understood her in a way nobody else did.

When she expressed heartfelt thoughts and ideas that she thought would better her family, Ford was the only one who wouldn't roll his eyes or shut her down. Rather, he would embrace them and find a way to introduce them into his own life.

Even when she herself grew out of an idea, Ford would stick with it if he genuinely thought it would better himself.

A few years ago, when she tried getting her family to eat more healthy foods and drink more water she was met with the usual teasing from Bart and partial support from Marge. Homer, who just wanted to eat whatever he liked, tried for a few hours and then failed miserably.

Ford, however, was more open to his sister's idea. At the time, he'd been developing a bit of an extended gut. Something he didn't want in common with his dad. He flashed a smile and gave a wink when she looked his way for any of his usual support.

Much to her joy she found that the next time they sat at the dinner table, everyone but Ford was eating pizza and drinking Mountain Doo. Rather, he had made the two of them some salad with a nice tall glass of ice water. And ever since then Ford made it a habit to have a salad at least four times a week.

"I was thinking we could go to the mall and look around for a bit. There's a new Thai place that just opened. And if you want, we could also go see a movie."

If it was possible, the ear to ear smile she had widened even further. This was turning out to be such an amazingly great day and she hadn't even gotten out of the bed yet!

"And maybe, just maybe, I might bring you to the Museum of Natural History…. _if_ we have time, that is." She was practically bouncing at this point. She wrapped two arms around Ford and squeezed as hard as she could. "Thank you! Thank you! _Thank you!_ "

He laughed, enjoying her enthusiastic gratitude. "Alright, alright! You can let go now you little monkey." The only way she would let go, however, was through-

Ford ran his moving fingers up and down her sides, eliciting several snorts of laughter from his sister. She tried to escape but her attempts were in vain in the presence of Ford's larger size and strength.

After a few more embarrassing snorts she was let go. "Bart's still in the shower, so go downstairs and eat what you can before the two bottomless pits we live with get down there." Lisa nodded shakily, still struggling to contain her giggles as she descended down the stairs.

Now it was time for the final struggle of the morning. His father. Who was currently sleeping straight through his third alarm. 'Every morning it's the same thing. He really needs to start taking more naps at work.'

It was painfully obvious to Ford just how incompetent Homer was both at his job and various other parts of his life. And while that was true, he loved his father very much regardless of that fact.

Because at the very base of his ignorance and tendency to do incredibly stupid things on an almost weekly basis, Homer Simpson was a man who loved his family and did what it took to take care of them.

Granted, Ford didn't always feel the way he did about his father. In fact, until Maggie was born he didn't have that much of an opinion of him at all. And when Homer finally paid the last of his outstanding debts off, a new and much more negative opinion of the man came flying out.

He thought Homer was _crazy_ to quit his steady job at the plant and go work at some bowling alley.

It was one thing to follow your dreams as a young man with no responsibility other than himself. But to willingly leave the safety of financial security with a whole family to support, Ford felt like Homer couldn't have possibly done anything worse.

He would find himself being proven wrong countless times in the future, but for that moment in time it was the absolute worst thing Homer had ever done. Especially when they found out Marge was pregnant with Maggie.

His negative opinion of Homer only grew as Marge's pregnancy went on as he believed that their carelessness was the reason for the extra burden on the family; almost resulting in Ford actually hating his father for the situation he'd put the rest of them in.

He was only seven when they brought Bart home and still only _barely_ nine when Lisa was born, so his interest in them didn't really peak until they began to move around on their own. Now, with the necessary maturity, he appreciated the miracle that was Maggie Simpson from the very beginning.

This increasing hostility towards him, however, was brought to a grinding halt the day his father brought him to work on 'Bring Your Child to Work' day. Seeing as Marg didn't have a job, Ford decided to bite the bullet and go with Homer.

He didn't exactly know much about how he got his job back, but it was fairly obvious that Homer did so at the cost of his self-respect. That much was certain by the miserable look on his face every time they sat down to eat dinner.

The circumstances of his rehiring, however, came into light when Ford saw the place Homer sat at the entire day. Nothing about it was too different from any of the depictions he read in the manuals, aside from the empty pizza boxes and burger wrappings.

And one other thing…something that didn't belong in the room. It was a gold plaque with pictures covering most of it, pictures of Maggie that he'd been looking for but couldn't find. He couldn't read the entire thing, but what it read changed how he saw Homer.

 **DO IT FOR**

 **HER**

He was curious as to what the rest of the thing said. To his surprise, his father happily told him. Homer sounded happy that his alteration to the plaque didn't go unnoticed by Ford.

Apparently, Mr. Burns made it policy to put up the plaque to crush the spirits of those people who came crawling back for their jobs.

According his father, the entire plaque read:

 **DON'T FORGET:**

 **YOU'RE HERE**

 **FOREVER.**

After that, Ford found it damn near impossible to muster up much anger at the man. What's more…after considerable thought…he couldn't exactly blame everything on Homer. Accidents happened, though he hated to think of his little sister as an accident.

One thing he hadn't really considered was the fact that Homer had given up on his dream job to make enough money to raise a baby.

Which is how the two came to be where they are today. From basic indifference to almost hating his guts to appreciating all that he's done.

Ford wouldn't be able to wake his father up by normal means. Leaning down towards his ear, "Breakfast is on the table and I made you an egg sandwich. If you don't wake up and get down there soon, Bart's gonna beat you to the table and-"

It took a minute to realize that the bed was empty. It seems Homer had left the moment Ford had mentioned that breakfast was ready and waiting. He seriously hoped that he would be spared his father's tendencies to overeat as he got older.

Having finished his morning duties, Ford decided to go down and sit with his family for a while. He was on break for a few more weeks while the high school was being detoxed and renovated.

He sighed, thinking that only in Springfield would a school somehow have both lead paint and asbestos at the same time.


	2. Chapter 2

Ford held Maggie in his arms as his mother took care of the dishes. Homer was scarfing down the sandwich that Ford had made for him, extra leaky just how he liked it, and Bart had changed places with Lisa who was just across from Ford finishing off the last of a piece of toast with some grape jam on it.

It felt as though it was just yesterday she was berating him on how gross it was for him to put jelly on his toast. Now, she was the one was asking him if he left her any of 'the good stuff'.

Bouncing Maggie up and down in his arms, he smiled at her happy cries. While her mouth was open, he contemplated grabbing the pacifier right then and there. He'd read in a book that pacifiers past the age of six months can cause ear infections.

Unfortunately, Maggie loved that pacifier of hers to death and all of the previous attempts to get it away from her failed miserably. Each time she would cry nonstop for days at a time. It hurt Ford's eardrums, not to mention his heart, to hear her wail so agonizingly.

His train of thought was derailed as two chubby hands reached up and began lightly tapping and pushing against his face. Seeing this, Marge put away the last of the dishes and took the baby from the chuckling teen.

"She always does that when you hold her." It was true. Whenever Maggie was held by Ford, her little hands would try to grab his hair or pull on his ear or, like just now, poke and prod his face.

"Maybe she doesn't like your face. You _are_ pretty ugly." Bart's comment earned him a glare from which he quickly shrunk in his seat. "Don't say that about you brother! He's very handsome. Just like your father was at that age."

The man in question groaned in satisfaction as he finished off the last of the bacon, leaning back in his chair and patting his stomach. Ford scrunched up his face, vowing silently to end up anything but that.

Just then, Lisa came running down the stairs excitedly. She saw from her bedroom window that the school bus had just stopped in front of their house. Which meant she was that much closer to the book fair and then to going to the movies with Ford.

"C'mon Bart! We're going to be late for school!" His little brother rolled his eyes, annoyed at having to go to school in the first place.

And since the bus was here, it was time for him and Homer to leave as well. They only had two cars, one of which needed to stay here with Marge, so she could be available at a moments notice in case of an emergency.

The other car was the one he and Homer began sharing after Ford got his drivers license. He dropped him off at work and then picked him back up at the end of his shift. In between that time he went to school and did whatever he felt like doing.

Of course, that meant he also needed to drop him off and pick him back up at Moe's. But he didn't really mind since his father usually spent a good two hours there before he needed to pick him back up to make it home in time for dinner.

Which meant that if he wanted to go out with Lisa, he'd need to clear it with Homer first. Such is the way of the good and responsible son.

"Come on, dad. You're gonna be late if we don't hurry. Mom, I'll be gone all day today. I already took care of the laundry so you just need to take the clothes out of the dryer, swept the floor, and got the bathrooms all spick and span."

He spoke quickly as Homer put his jacket on and rushed towards the door. "All that's left are the groceries, folding the laundry, and maybe wiping down the kitchen counters. It's Friday so there's no reason for you to cook anything."

Marge tried the best she could to keep track of what he was saying. They walked together out the door and to the driveway. "I promised Lisa I'd take her to a movie after school ended. So I'd appreciate it if you could pick dad up after he gets off work."

He turned towards his father. "That means you won't be going to Moe's tonight." It was as if he'd kicked a puppy. He rolled his eyes. "There's some beer in the fridge and I picked up some donuts on the way home yesterday. They're on top of the fridge."

The car door closed and a muffled 'Woo hoo!' had him fighting a smile. It was like telling a little kid they were going to the toy store. Or a candy store, in Homer's case.

"I'm picking up Bart and Lisa today so the only things you really need to do today are what I said earlier, picking dad up, and ordering dinner for the three of you minues Maggie, of course. Have a good day and make sure to relax a bit. You might be coming down with something."

He gave his mom a kiss on the cheek, got in the car, and sped down the road leaving a very flustered and very happy Marge behind. She didn't want to say anything, but she wasn't feeling all too well.

And, as usual, Ford was the one who picked up on it. Unlike Homer and the rest of them, Ford noticed anything and everything that was wrong with the either the house or the rest of the family.

Going back inside, she cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, noting the clean floors void of any stains or muddy shoeprints, and went upstairs to get showered and dressed for the day. And maybe even take some medicine if she was lucky enough to find some.

The Simpsons rarely got sick. A cool thing for someone to have going for them, if not for the downside. While they didn't get sick too often, when they did it was a living hell. As if all the built-up sicknesses they somehow avoided getting all decided to attack at the same time.

Walking into her room, she noticed the bed was already made and on her dresser was a piece of paper with some pills. It read:

 **The largest one is for headaches and most other kinds of aches and the round one is for coughing, sneezing, sore throats, and runny noses.**

 **On your sink is some vapor rub to clear up any stuffed noses and to allow for better breathing. (Rub a little under your nose, and a little more than that on your chest.) Please put this back in my room when you've unstuffed yourself and be sure to lock the door behind you to keep out any unwanted** ** _Barts_** **. Key is in the usual spot.**

 **Also! It may tingle a bit, but that means it's working. See you tonight if we don't get back too late.**

 **Love you!**

Because the Simpsons never really got sick, they never bothered to buy any over the counter drugs. Only what Dr. Hibbert, or that quack Nick Riviera, prescribes is ever taken.

Which is why Ford took precautions and stocked up on medicines from the pharmacy. As he too knows what the horror of having a Simpson level virus is all about. A lot of slow suffering and prayers for a mercy killing.

Swallowing the pills and taking off her nightgown to apply the vapor rub, her heart swelled with emotion. She wouldn't ever admit it to anyone…but Ford was her favorite child.

Regardless of how independent of her he was. In her mind, Ford was the one who would _definitely_ take care of Homer and her when they grew old.

And maybe Lisa…but probably not.

Ford had just dropped off his father at the plant. Unfortunately, they hadn't run into Mr. Burns, he'd been hoping to do so for the last few weeks but never seemed to be there in time to do so.

Right now, he was sitting at a red light playing with the radio to find a good song or a decent morning talk show. He wondered if Gabbin' About God was on. The rabbi was kind of funny when he went on his little rants.

After several minutes of looking without finding anything, he turned his attention back to the road. The light was green.

As he pressed on the gas pedal, he noticed another car speeding down the road towards a group of well-dressed men and… a single woman? He watched as the black car slowed down to a near stop. His foot was on the brake, his curiosity peaked.

Ford squinted his eyes to try and get a better look at the men in suits. When suddenly, there gunfire followed by screams to get down and the sound of glass shattering and bullets hitting metal.

Now, he didn't know why he did it, but after a moment of hesitation Ford slammed his foot on the gas and launched himself towards the car firing on the group of people. He hadn't yet seen the well-dressed men returning said gunfire.

Making a sharp left, Ford's car slammed into the front of the black car, catching the gunmen inside off guard and incapacitating them.

As soon as the cars made contact, Ford's head made contact with the steering wheel. The airbag hadn't deployed.

His world swimming in and out of darkness and his breathing shallower than he realized, Ford swore he had heard some more gunshots and…people talking? One of them sounded like a woman's voice.

But their words were lost to him. And soon enough, he couldn't hear anymore…and his consciousness faded away.

An hour later, Anna Maria D'Amico sat up in her bed listening to her husband tell her what they had found out about the young man who saved them. The drivers' license they found in his wallet gave them some basic information.

"His name is Clifford Simpson. He's seventeen years old…lives at 742 Evergreen Terrace." This was good. They could send people over to that address and let them know what happened. Hospitals waited a while before contacting anyone and Anna felt that they should know sooner rather than later.

"Well whoever this Clifford Simpson is…I owe him my life. We both do." The two went quiet at that statement. It felt surreal. They were almost gunned down. _She_ was shot through the side. Missed anything major, but who knew if she'd be lucky a second time.

Her husband, Marion Anthony D'Amico, had indulged her desire to go for a walk to the park rather than staying inside all day. It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary for them. Just not something they did more than a few times a year.

Little did she know, that this walk would give Marion's enemies the opportunity to strike at them. She'd been curious when the car that had pulled up to them had lowered its windows. She thought they might've been lost and needed some directions.

Most people who don't live in Springfield usually do. It was almost a labyrinth of a city to those who didn't live there.

And while she might have been curious initially, she felt her heart sank to her knees as the barrels of their guns came into view. They opened fire, taking down a few of her husband's men and hitting her in the side as well.

If it hadn't been for the young man who'd crashed his car into the gunmen's, she'd have probably bled out before they could get help. That was a scary thought. She'd have died and left her little boy, Michael, and darling husband all on their own.

It seemed the D'Amico family owed this young man their lives. And Anna would be sure to do all she could to repay their debt. Starting with his hospital fees.

And from what she saw, possibly a new car.

Homer sat in the breakroom enjoying an early lunch. He'd been rushed out of the house so suddenly that he hadn't managed to eat his fill. On the upside, he was earlier than he'd ever been before.

Which meant that he had first dibs on hot coffee and the donuts no one picked up and put back down.

As he sat at the table listening to Lenny and Carl talk about going to Moe's after work and trying a new kind of beer that he'd recently put on his menu, the phone across the room began to ring. It was weird because the phone almost never rang during work hours.

The three of them just looked at it before Homer, Carl, and Lenny played a game of 'Not it!'. Lenny, having lost, got up and answered the phone. A few seconds of listening and he held the phone out in Homer's direction.

"Homer, it's for you. It's Marge and she sounds really upset." Homer walked over to Lenny and took the phone from his hand. "Marge?"

Several minutes of Marge crying over the phone, loud enough for Lenny, Carl, and a few others also in the break room to hear, Homer put the phone back on the receiver and turned to face his friends and co-workers.

They all gave him questioning glances.

"My son was in a car accident earlier this morning. Um…one of you mind giving me a ride to the hospital?"

Lisa spent almost an hour combing through the various carts in her school's library. So many choices to pick from and all of them seemed to be really great reads.

It disappointed her to know she couldn't afford them all, even with the extra twenty dollars she'd found in her backpack. When she saw the two ten-dollar bills and knew that she could at least afford twice the number of books than before, she'd decided on

But she was still having a good time making a very long list of what she couldn't buy and was interested in getting at some point later on. Maybe she would get a few of them for her birthday. Or even Christmas.

And even if she didn't, Lisa trusted Ford to get her something she'd like. He always has in the past.

As she finished paying for them, having enough money left-over buy a bookmark, the loudspeaker crackled to life. It was Principal Skinner calling Bart to his office. She sighed, wondering what Bart had done this time.

But was surprised to hear her name being called as well. Had she done something wrong? No. The better question was: What had _Bart_ done to get her in trouble?

The boy in question was already sitting outside of Skinner's office. Mrs. Krabappel had sent him down there for pelting Martin with spitballs. Until Skinner's voice came over the loudspeaker, it was just a normal day for him.

It was convenient that he was right outside the door already. But he did find it weird that Lisa was called in too. They were never called in together. So why now?

Lisa rounded the corner looking just as confused as Bart felt. "What did you do, Bart? Because I'm not going to cover for you if you got me in trouble too." He frowned at the accusation.

"Hey! I haven't done anything yet that would get the both of us in trouble. How do I know it wasn't-" She gave him a flat stare. "Yeah, no, that's not really your style, is it? So why _are_ we here."

The door opened, and Skinner walked out. Instead of looking angry or annoyed or any of his usual emotions whenever a Simpson was near him, Bart specifically, he looked almost regretful. As if he knew something that he didn't want to tell them.

"Bart. Lisa. I…Hm…I just got a call from your mother. There's been an…accident." Bart paled a bit while Lisa felt like passing out right then and there. Who was hurt? How? Her mom? Maggie? Her dad? Or maybe…no. No not Ford.

Her dad was at work and it was supposed to be relatively safe, her mom was probably at home with Maggie watching some television as she folded clothes, and Ford…Well, he'd usually be in class right about now.

But she couldn't imagine Ford getting hurt in an accident.

Out of everyone in her family, he was the most responsible. The most responsible person she knew. He was always going on about being wary of strangers and always sticking close to him when they went out shopping or to go to the arcade.

Skinner could read the children's expressions like an open book. One of them filled with confusion and worry, and the other feeling devastated that anyone in her family could be hurt.

"Now…your mother is on her way here to pick you up and bring you over to the hospital. I'll walk both of you to your classes to gather your things." From the way he heard the tires screeching in the background on the phone, she should be expected to arrive within a few minutes.

The three of them walked down the hall in silence. Normally, Bart would be making jokes and wisecracks while Lisa would chide him for doing so in front of the principal. But not today. Instead, there was a silence that was broken only by the sound of Lisa sniffles.

While he was normally strict with his students and maintained a professional distance between them, he saw fit to place a hand on either of their shoulders. He'd hoped they'd help them feel even a little bit better.

Any more than that might've been inappropriate, but any less would have been downright coldhearted on his part.

Even if they were troublemakers that made life on him a lot harder than it should be, Lisa was not always the bright shining star she tried to be, they were still only children. And sometimes, children needed to know that they weren't alone.

Marge sat in front of the television, folding clothes, and keeping an eye on Maggie. The little girl was absolutely mesmerized by the tv. At the moment, it was playing some kid's show that Marge couldn't remember the name of.

Just as she was finishing the last of Bart's shirts, she was thinking about getting him a shirt that wasn't the same color as the others, the doorbell rang and was accompanied by three hard knocks.

'That might be Ned with the lawnmower he borrowed yesterday.' His had broken down and Marge thought it would be neighborly to lend him theirs. Technically, it was his since Homer borrowed it and never gave it back.

More knocks on the door had Marge putting down a pair of unfolded underwear and picking up Maggie before lightly jogging to the door.

Opening it, she began talking, assuming it was Ned. "Did you finish your backyard alre-" Rather than Ned at the door, it was a man and woman. As well as five other men standing intimidatingly behind them.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were our neighbor Ned. Can I help you with anything?" The woman seemed unsure of herself for a second and forced the words out. "My name is Anna and this is my husband Marion."

Said husband seemed embarrassed that his wife had said his first name so casually. It seemed as though he'd preferred to anything else. "Though I'd prefer it if you called me Tony." Marge nodded her head.

"Um…this is the Simpson residence, right? As in Clifford Simpson is living here?" Again, marge nodded. Tony spoke this time. "Well…Miss Simpson, earlier today your son saved our lives."

He waved at hand at his wife and himself. "For that, he will have our eternal thanks." Marge wasn't liking the way this conversation was going. She had a bad feeling about what they were going to say next.

"We were being harassed by some… _associates_ …of ours. And in getting them to leave us be, your son was involved in a car accident." The look Marge gave them nearly tore Anna's heart into pieces.

It was the kind of look you expect to get when you tell someone's mother that their son was seriously hurt. And possibly dead. She didn't know, how could she when they hadn't told her about his injuries.

"The doctors said that initial tests and observations show that he has some broken ribs, heavy bruising in the face area, some swelling in the brain, and…" Anna really didn't think she should hear this next bit, mostly because the woman was already on the verge of breaking down, but Marge wouldn't let either of them off easy.

"What is it? Tell me." And while she spoke the words, she almost didn't want to know. "They said that he was lucky that the crash hadn't killed him. Apparently the airbag didn't deploy. If it had…there would probably only be bruising and a maybe a broken nose."

As it turned out, Anna's initial worry was very well founded. Marge was on the verge of hyperventilating. It was too much to take in.

Thinking quickly, she tried reassuring the woman. "They also said, however, that him wearing his seatbelt saved his life. And that if there's nothing else wrong with him and the swelling goes down, then he'd make a full recovery."

It worked. At least, Anna thought it worked. Rather than say anything more to her, Marge left them at the door. Didn't even bother to close it. She just ran over to the phone and began to dial the number to the powerplant.

After that, she dialed the number for Springfield Elementary. She didn't even waste time putting the phone back on its receiver. Opting to walk back through the door, past the group of people still standing outside, and into her car.

Saying "Thank you for telling me." Before strapping Maggie in from her spot in the front seat and driving off down the street fast enough for tire marks to burn into the road and the screeching of tires against asphalt to pierce the air. She hadn't even closed the front door.

Normally, Tony would have been offended by the blatant disregard for him and his wife. But today was the exception. It was obvious to him that she was more concerned with her very hurt son than with some guy in a suit and his wife.

Add to that that the woman didn't even seem to recognize who he was _before_ they told her what had happened…

It was the first time somebody in Springfield had intentionally, though he doubted that what with the hollow look in her eyes as she walked past them, ignored Fat Tony and lived a healthy life afterwards.

"At least she still had mind to thank us after hearing all she heard." He was no idiot. Tony knew Anna was trying to calm down any anger he might have felt at the fact that the woman paid him practically no mind throughout the entire conversation.

"You don't need to try and calm me down, Anna. Just this once, I'm not the least bit upset at being ignored." They closed the door to the house and turned to leave. As they walked towards the car, Fat Tony turned towards two of his men.

"Keep an eye on the place until they get back." Leaving them to get to their own car, he and his wife sat in the back while one man sat across from them and the two others sat in the front.

Finishing his thought from earlier. "I could never get mad about that level of love a mother feels for her son. Not when I know you love our son just as much as much as she obviously loves hers." They held each other in silence the whole ride home.

Neither had ever felt so lucky to be alive in the arms of the other.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey! Chapter 3 is here and my author senses are telling me that not posting it would be a mistake. Hope you enjoy the read. Leave a comment if you did and leave one if you didn't. I would also appreciate ideas and other such opinions for the stories future._

 _See you in the next chapter!_

 _Bye~_

Ford could feel himself slowly waking up. He felt…very sore. Which was confusing because he didn't remember doing anything to warrant this level tenderness. Actually, he couldn't really remember much of anything.

He groaned trying to sit up, only to let out a sharp hiss as something in his arms, and chest painfully resisted the attempt. He could hear some alarms going off around him. They almost sounded like the ones that…hospital dramas…used.

"Hospital?" He groggily opened his eyes, not enjoying the sight of a hospital room. Looking down, he could see the various tubes placed in his arms and chest had been partially ripped out, some blood running down his stomach and forearms as a result.

"Oh, _shit…_ " Slightly surprising himself as he rarely cursed out loud. Two nurses came into the room, worried that the alarms were telling them that Ford's heart had stopped beating.

Instead, they were relieved to find him standing there bloody and confused. And speaking of being bloody, Ford was losing more and more blood the longer he stood there staring. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body tumbled towards the ground.

Being the quicker of the two, the woman reached Ford first and held him steady long enough for the other nurse to help carry him back to the bed. "Michelle, go tell Dr. Hibbert that Ford Simpson's awake."

As she walked down the hall, the other nurse called out to her again. "And see if he wants us to contact the family!"

Looking back towards the once again unconscious man, the nurse smiled. He was glad to see his patient was, albeit momentarily, finally up and about after two weeks of just lying there.

'And no doubt those crazy ass people who come to see him every day will be as well….Oh, _duh_!' He smacked laughingly himself on the forehead and began to walk over. 'I almost forgot to put these back in.'

A few hours later, Ford once again felt himself waking up. It felt as though something heavy was lying on top of him. He supposed that was what it felt like after having medical tubes get partially ripped out.

When he woke up this time, however, he wasn't alone. Looking to his left, he could see his family waiting for him to wake up again.

His father was enjoying some sort of chocolate bar he got from the vending machine down the hall, his mother was pacing back and forth at the foot of his bed making worried noises that sounded both frustrated and impatient.

Bart looked like he was in the zone playing some handheld video game. He'd need to remind himself to have a look at what Bart was playing; no doubt it was much more violent than either of his parents thought.

Lisa was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, looking more upset than Ford had ever seen her. Obviously, his accident had more of an impact on her than anyone. The red around her eyes made that much clear. It made him feel bad.

Maggie was…nowhere to be seen. His mom wasn't holding her like she usually was, and no one else was either, for that matter. Suddenly, the weight on his chest made a noise. Turning to face it, he did so just in time to have his face felt up by two small hands.

There she was, looking at him with the same curious look that all babies have. Careful to not pull out the tubes in his arms for a second time, he actually couldn't tell if there _were_ still tubes in him because moving his head as much as he would have to to see would hurt a lot more than what it was worth, Ford placed a hand on her back to keep her from moving too much.

It wasn't like she would have fallen off with the guard rails on either side of him. But it was better safe than sorry.

"You know…" His voice was rough from its weeks of disuse. "I'm not sure how I feel about my family entire family watching me sleep."

Everyone stopped moving at the sound of his voice. He smiled, amused at their sudden freeze up. "I didn't scare you guys, did I?" And as if they had all come back to the world at the same time, each of them rushed towards him.

As they struggled amongst themselves for a piece of him to hug, Ford's nervous laughter broke through. "Just so you know, I'm still in recovery from the crash so I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch me harder than you're about to."

One at a time they went up to hug him, Marge taking Maggie off of Ford's chest to do so.

She held him in a tight hug trying to alleviate the worries she'd been trying to deal with. She was thankful for the fact that she dyed her hair, otherwise the new gray streaks in her hair would've been showing for everyone to see.

Homer gave his son a pat on the shoulder and offered him a piece of the candy bar he'd been munching on. And Bart managed to tear his eyes away from the video game long enough to give his brother a quick hug.

His initial shock at the fact that Ford had been hurt in a car accident had long since faded away into indifference. Especially after the doctors said that he'd woken up.

Lisa, though, wouldn't move from her spot. Instead, she glared at Ford and said nothing. Seeing that this was probably a conversation to have in private, Ford asked them to leave him and Lisa alone in the room.

Of course, he couldn't say that. So instead, "I think they're giving away free sandwiches downstairs and they're gone." He smiled at their antics. They hear 'free' and 'sandwich' and they go running.

"Okay Lisa. You're mad at me. I understand." It wasn't a question. He knew his little sister was probably terrified for him for all these weeks. "I'm sorry. I really am." The more he spoke the angrier she looked.

But he knew better. Getting angrier looking always made it harder for her to cry; something she didn't want to do. Right now, she wanted to be angry at him. But…how in the hell could she do that when he was right there in front of her alive and smiling.

He could see the tears beginning to build in her eyes. "Okay. No more angry face. C'mon." He pat the side of his bed, scooching over to the other end to give her room to climb up.

A single tear rolled down the side of her face before the floodgates finally opened up. She was able to let out a few choked sobs before running and jumping into the bed, burying her head into his hospital gown.

"It's okay, Lisa. I'm here." He whispered softly, gently running his fingers through her hair, listening to her crying tears of both relief and worry.

He'd rarely ever upset her to this point. Once when he accidentally dropped her saxophone down a flight of stairs and the other when he dropped her saxophone down _another_ flight of stairs. In his defense, stairs were the devil and they actively work against him.

Eventually, the lack of sleep plaguing Lisa had caught up to her. By the time the rest of the Simpsons got back, both brother and sister were asleep in each other's arms. And seeing as they still had three hours left for visitation, the Simpsons took a family nap.

None of them had been able to sleep soundly since Ford's accident. A sight he got a kick out of the second he woke up and saw them. Unfortunately, he didn't have his camera. Otherwise, it would've been the perfect picture.

The next and final night he'd be staying at the hospital, Ford woke up to the feeling of someone gently shaking him. He really wished he could wake up in his own bedroom sooner rather than later.

Of course, that would come soon enough once they stopped observing his condition and let him go home.

"Nurse Feldman? I appreciate the gesture, but I'm pretty sure it'd be more pain than pleasure at this stage in my recovery if you were to get our lovely hands on me." He and his attending nurse had started a game with one another.

Whenever she'd come into his room, they'd each come up with a reason why they couldn't have sex with the other person. The funniest of the two won.

It was his favorite pastime since the television had gotten stuck on the infomercial network. So far, he was winning six to three. And more than anything, it was a way to distract himself from the eternal boredom he felt lying in bed endlessly.

"Neither of us is this 'Nurse Feldman' but I assure you it _will_ be more pain than pleasure if I find you talking to my wife like that again." Huh. She sounded more like a man than he last remembered. "You, uh, you're not my nurse are you?"

"No. I am not." Opening his squinted eyes and turning to the voice, he realized that it was a well-dressed man who had been speaking to him. And closer to his bed was a nicely dressed woman who smiled at Ford's mistake.

"Oh relax, dear. He obviously thought I was someone else." That seemed to mollify the man but did nothing to stop the look he gave Ford.

"So…I'm Ford. It's nice to meet you: pretty lady, scary guy standing behind her, even scarier looking guys standing behind him. Is there someone in particular you're looking for?" That seemed to lighten the mood a bit.

"Well, you were the one who crashed his car into another one to save that group of people who were getting shot at, right?" Ford nodded his head, having an idea of where this could take him. Either they were the people he saved or the ones he screwed over.

"Then we're here to see you." The man began to walk over, reaching into his pocket to pull something out. Ford, about to launch himself as fast as he could towards the door, stopped when the man pulled out a piece of paper.

"This," he waved it in the air "is a token of appreciation for saving our lives. Without your help, who knows what could have happened to us. To my wife." He glanced longingly at her for a moment before regaining his composure.

Ford took the piece of paper and took a closer look at it. It was a check. A check for- ' _holy_ _shit_!' Shaking his head in incomprehension, he opened his mouth. "What…?" The woman picked up his hand, cutting off his attempt.

"We spoke to the doctors and persuaded them to give us some of your medical history; we hope you don't mind." Even if he did, he was too stunned to speak up about it. "The only thing that saved you from instant death was something that runs in your family called Homer Simpson Syndrome."

That was the upside to what his father and grandfather affectionately called the 'Simpson Gene'. A protective layer on the outside of the brain in exchange for being as dumb as a sack of rocks.

Of course, Ford was the only one in his family that was both intelligent _and_ male. So it was no surprise that he'd get all the perks he apparently had.

"Hm. Well, I'm glad I got to be my own personal airbag. But even still…I'm not sure I should take the money. I mean, I _want_ the money, believe me I'd cash this thing right now if they'd let me leave, but I don't know. It kinda feels like I'd be taking advantage of your gratitude."

The husband and wife du shared a look before chuckling. "I like you, kid, you got a refreshing sense of decency that very few people have these days. Keep the money and consider it as a way to pay you back for the hospital bills, the car, and any other misfortunes you might've suffered in the process of saving our lives."

The way he said it was both appreciative and absolute. Ford was keeping the money whether he felt bad or not. "Okay Mr….?"

The man smiled. "D'Amico. But you can just call me Fat Tony." Oh. Oh dear.

"As in… _the_ Fat Tony? The one that…." Ford trailed off, not wanting to upset the man by mentioning his less than legal ways of running a business. "Yes, and it appears our little meeting has come to an end. I have business across town."

Anna, hearing this, gave his hand one last squeeze and flashed one last smile before getting up and heading out the door. As the group left, Fat Tony handed one of the men who'd stood in the back of the room a card which he placed in Ford's lap.

"The Boss's personal number, in case you ever need something. Don't lose it, don't share it, and don't call on Sundays. That's when he spends time with his son. Have nice night, Mr. Simpson." The man then left without another word.

Finally, only Fat Tony and Ford remained. Though the men from before were still just outside the doorway.

"Remember this, Mr. Simpson," There it was again. _Mr_. _Simpson_. Almost nobody called him that. It felt…different. Good different. "If you ever need anything, my doors always open for you. Consider yourself a friend of the D'Amico family."

And just like that, Ford became involved with the local crime syndicate. "Well… _that_ was unexpected. But, at least they're safe." He looked down at the check in his hands. "And also, I'm rich."

Once they all left, Ford sat quietly in his bed. Occasionally, he'd take the check out from his pocket and stare at it for a while before putting it back in his pocket. It was…quite the sum of money.

Enough to buy a new car, pay for his medical expenses, and then have some-still more than half of what his expenses might take out-left over for his own personal use.

Maybe he'd do something crazy…or maybe he'd end up sharing it with his family. Actually, that in and of itself _was_ a pretty crazy idea. But, and he hesitated to think about it, the Simpsons weren't known for using extra money wisely.

In fact, Ford would make better use of it if he just kept the existence of the check to himself. And that's what he would do. What he had to do if he wanted to spend it with the future in mind. Otherwise, it'd just go to some vacation that none of them would enjoy for one reason or another.

That same night, several hours later, the hospital cleared Ford to leave and finish his recovery from home. As he was saying his goodbyes to Nurse Feldman, his mother signed him out. After that, they walked to the car.

It felt like it'd been forever since he'd been home, and he couldn't wait to lay down in his own bed. But not until he showered and changed into some clean pajamas. After that, he'd be able to sleep comfortably for the first time in weeks.

The whole ride home, Marge kept stealing glances at Ford out of the corner of her eyes. Ford, noticing this, sighed internally. Having almost lost him threw her into what he liked to call 'Ultimate Mother' mode.

Which meant, he knew, she'd have her eyes on him for the next few days; maybe even weeks. It was understandable, of course. He had almost died just a couple of weeks ago followed by a short coma from which he didn't regain consciousness for a whole two weeks.

"Would you mind making a quick stop at Grampa's before we go home? I don't think anyone's told him about my little accident. And even with his less than perfect memory, I think he'd notice if my visits went from three times a week to nothing for two weeks."

The Simpsons, excluding Ford, didn't really involve themselves much with Homer's father, Abraham Simpson. Homer because of the shitty childhood he had with the man, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie because they were children living in their own selfish world, and Marge because she knew Homer didn't like having him around.

She made one of her anxious grumbling noises. "We can go tomorrow. It's late and you haven't even eaten dinner yet." He nodded, not having thought of food since Fat Tony and his wife showed up.

"I made one of your favorites." One of his favorites? That could've been anything. "Hmm…is it~ eggplant?" She smiled. "I knew it. And I'm starving, so let's hurry up and get home."

After that, it was a quiet drive home. Neither wanting to break the peaceful silence that set upon them.

A peace that Marge had been craving since the accident.

Dinner was delicious, especially after experiencing hospital food every meal of every day for two weeks straight. He'd throw up if he even so much as _thought_ of green jello.

Following dinner was a nice bath in the recently cleaned and re-scrubbed tub. Baths were pointless if you bathed in a dirty tub. Also, gross. Plus, the way the water came shooting out from the showerhead, it had too much pressure.

Ford was afraid the bruising on his chest, from where the seatbelt had caught him, wouldn't be able to take that kind of stress for a few more days. It was mostly gone, but he could still feel it ache when he moved too much or stretched too far.

After the bath, he went back to the kitchen to kiss his mother good night. She'd taken the opportunity to let him know that he could sleep in for the next few days. That she would handle the early morning chores while he caught up on some much-needed rest.

Marge didn't like that Ford had dark circles under his eyes. 'He's obviously had a rough time sleeping in that hospital bed. A few days in his own bed should fix that.'

Heading back to his room, he took the clothes he'd draped over his desk chair and threw them in the laundry room, making sure to scavenge his pants for his wallet, keys, the check from Fat Tony, and the number of the nurse

He put on his usual sleeping bottoms, a pair of sweatpants that almost reached his ankles, and tucked himself into bed. It had that refreshing, cool temperature that empty beds usually had. His pillow was not the exception, much to his joy.

He laid on his stomach, facing his door and watching as Marge walked past his room several times. He smiled as he heard the sound of her hand gripping the doorknob turning it a bit and then changing her mind at the last second.

She did this several more times before he heard her signature unsure grumble and subsequent trip to her room. The hall light turned off and the house was quiet. Slowly, Ford slipped into a deep sleep.

At least, he thought it was a deep sleep. The sound of his doorknob turning brought him back to the waking world.

His door opened, the sound of it squeaking open and closed followed by the sound of soft taps against the floor as whoever it was that came in was small. Which meant it was either Bart, Maggie, or " _Ford…Ford…are you awake?_ "

Lisa whispered to her older brother, unsure of whether or not waking him up would be such a good idea. Ford could be quite unpleasant when he was sleep deprived. " _Ford…I had a nightmare…would you mind…could I…lay down next to you for a little while…?_ "

He could hear the begging tone in her voice, knowing that she'd probably just had a nightmare. Maybe even about him. She hadn't needed to sleep in someone else's bed to get to sleep since she was five.

There was a pause, Lisa almost took it as a sign to go away, before Ford shifted closer to the wall and lifted the covers for her to climb under. She quickly slipped into the bed, feeling relieved that Ford was okay with letting her stay.

The nightmare had been awful. In it, Ford had been in an accident much like the one that sent him to the hospital. Being thrown out of the car window and all the way over to where she was standing; off to the side. It was no nightmare any eight-year-old should be having.

But, luckily, it was only that. A nightmare. Her older brother was still alive and kicking.

"Mmmmuugghhh! _Lisaaaa_ , your feet are freezing! Did you stick them in a tray of ice before coming here…?" She giggled at his complaint and at the large arm that was suddenly draped over her.

As always, Ford could tell when something was truly bothering her. And this was his way of letting her know he was there for her. Holding her close and making jokes.

Normally, Ford was one to tickle her into submission or put Bart in a hold or dance with Maggie around the room on a normal day. But if something was wrong with any of them, he tended to wrap his arms around them or hold them close.

Touchy-feely was how Bart had described it. And in doing so, earned himself a noogie to go with the headlock. But he wasn't wrong. Ford was just the kind of guy who liked to be intimate with his family.

Especially when they needed it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey readers! Back with another chapter that I hope you all enjoy._

 _Leave a review and have a good read!_

 _Bye~_

Ford woke up later than usual but wasted no time in starting his day. He didn't feel like taking a bath so early in the day, it felt weird taking one at any other time than right before bed, so he just put some street clothes on.

A white t-shirt, some basketball shorts, and an old pair of sneakers. He was glad to have such loose, yet comfortable clothes. Anything like pants or a hoodie would be too much for his sore body to

By the time he got downstairs, his brother, sister, and father were gone. Even Marge and Maggie were gone. She'd left a note telling him that there was some more eggplant in the fridge if he wanted to heat some up for lunch and that they were going to spend the day shopping for groceries and clothes.

He looked at the clock. It was almost 10:30. 'Hmm. I'd really rather not eat alone. And since I also need a ride to Grampa's and the bank…'

A minute later, he was walking out of the house and next door to the Flanders. Knocking on the door and stepping back a bit, he waited for Ned to open the door. 'Hopefully Ned can give me a ride. He's not doing anything in particular, I think. The 8:00 morning mass is already over.'

The door opened, revealing a chipper looking Ned Flanders. "Well~ hi diddly ho, neighborino! It's good to see you back in good health. The whole family was praying for you." Ford couldn't help the smile.

Ned was always greeting people with a smile and praying for others. It was a pretty refreshing sight considering which town he lived in and the people in it.

"Well, Ned, they must've been some amazing prayers since I'm amongst the living once more. Thank you. So, uh, how was church this morning? I've been hearing rumors that there've been some changes in the way some of the songs are sung."

That got him going. A whole three-minute speech on how new and exciting church seemed now that the lyrics and tune of the songs were changed so drastically. There were even some new ones that Reverend Lovejoy heard in a church during his trip to New York a few days back.

"That's great. I'm glad you and the family enjoyed it. I actually came over here to ask for a favor." Ned nodded his head, a sign to continue talking. "See, I don't have a car right now and I have things I gotta do in town."

"I was wondering, if you're not busy, could you drive me there?" Ned laughed. "No problemo! I'd be happy to help. When do you want to leave? And where are we going?" Ford _loved_ having Ned as a neighbor. The man was willing to do a lot more for someone than anyone would even think about doing.

"Well, first I gotta stop by the retirement home and see my grandfather. He hasn't seen me in a while, two weeks is like an eternity in old people time. Also, the water that comes out of our shower at home is too rough for the bruises on my chest, so I was going to use the adjustable showerheads in his shower."

He only needed to go to two other places after that. "Then I was going to go to the bank to cash a check."

Ned nodded again, turning in to grab his coat and his keys. "I'll meet you in the car, I gotta leave a note before I go. If I'm gone when they get back, who knows how they'll react." He also needed to grab the check.

Walking back to his house, he wrote them a quick note telling them where he was and who he was with. On his way back out, he slipped into his room, took his wallet and the check out of his sock drawer's hidden compartment, and made his way back to Ned's car.

Getting in, he had a thought. "Hey, Ned." The man turned to him. "Would you and the family want to join me for lunch? If you guys don't have any plans, that is."

He thought about it for a second before unbuckling his seatbelt. "We'd love to! I'll be right back with Maude and the boys." As he left the car, Ford closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat.

He was still tired and the car was warm from the morning Sun shining through the windows. He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep until the car made a sudden stop at a red light. "Mmm…" He stretched his legs a bit and yawned

He opened his eyes and, momentarily disoriented, had no idea where he was. He looked to his left and saw Ned focused on the road. Then he remembered asking Ned for a ride. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep on you guys."

"That's okay, Ford." Maude spoke from the back seat, in between the boys. "It's nice to sit with the boys in the backseat from time to time." The best part about her statement. It held no malice of any kind. Not even a little bit of discontentment.

Something Ford was happy to detect. If someone fell asleep in his family's car, no doubt the annoyance and the resentment would be palpable.

"We're here." Seriously? He looked out the windshield. 'Huh.' He hadn't even realized that they were that close.

"Alright Flanders." Ned spoke to his family. "While Ford is taking care of his business, let's all sing some tunes." Before the singing could start, Ford left the car. He could stomach everything about the Flanders except for the singing. That's where he drew the line.

Walking up to the receptionists' desk, Ford gave a smile and leaned onto the counter. "Hello. I'm here to see Abraham Simpson." The woman waved him off and Ford began making his way towards his grandfather's room.

Along the way, he said his 'Hello's' and 'Good mornings' to each of the men and women he came across. They all looked so starved for attention from their family. It made him thankful that at least _he_ was around to see Abe.

And he could understand that his father's childhood wasn't that good what with Abe constantly putting him down. But even with that in mind, the others should at least _try_ to seem interested in the man.

He knocked on his grandfather's room. The door was practically swung open, Abe visibly excited for his visitor. Even if there was a good chance it was just the nurse doing medication rounds.

"Grampa! I've been gone for only been two weeks and you've already replaced me with a younger new model." Ford was referring to the elderly woman sitting on Abe's bed.

The old man was slightly senile, and dressed like it on his worse days, but he could still romance a woman like nothing Ford's ever seen. Old people were surprisingly active in the bedroom. Especially women.

'Maybe this kind of thought process is why people don't visit their cast away relatives anymore?'

"What the bah bh- Ford! I haven't seen you in…" He did the numbers in his head. "…three years!?" He gave his grandfather a tight hug, it hurt a little, but was worth it to see his smile. "Two weeks, grandpa. I was in the hospital, remember? Car accident? Coma?"

The lost look on his face said it all. 'Of course, they didn't.' His family hardly spoke to Abe ever since they'd put him in here.

"They didn't tell you, did they?" He shook his head sadly. "Well, that doesn't matter. Point is, I'm fine, I'm sorry for missing those two weeks' worth of visits, and I need to borrow your shower for a minute. The one at home hurts my chest when I use it."

"Okay, just don't take too long. I've got company." He looked shyly back to his lady friend. She gave him a playful smile and an accompanying wink. 'Oh~ _gross!'_

Yep. It was time to hurry the hell up. Moving to the bathroom, he grabbed one of his grandpa's spare towels and locked the door behind him. As he did, he was sure to press the needle down on the already spinning record.

He could here one of his grandfather's favorite songs being played as he showered. The softest setting the showerhead had was just perfect for his mild bruising and the hot water felt good against his skin.

After a good fifteen minutes of showering, drying, and getting dressed he opened the door ever so slightly. He honestly didn't want to stumble across old people having sex for a _third_ time.

Luckily, the two were only dancing in the middle of the room. It was a heartwarming scene. Once he hated to interrupt, but… he opened the door.

"Alright grandpa. I'm heading out. I'll see you in a few days when you're not putting the moves on this pretty young lady, here." He gave her a wink as he opened and walked out the door.

As he closed it, he could hear the woman talking. She must not have realized how loud she was being. The joys of growing old and losing one's hearing.

"Quite the charmer you got there, Abe. And seeing how that's the second Simpson man to compliment me so smoothly today, I'm beginning to think it runs in the family." His grandfather chuckled at the thought.

"Well, almost. It might've skipped a generation." Ford laughed at the reference to Homer. But, Ford had to refute that. His father was actually quite the charming man when he actually tried to be. How else could he have gotten someone like his mother to fall for him?

"Now, what's this I hear about you putting the moves on me." Yep! Time to go!

Leaving the building, he could see the Flanders sitting in the car _still singing._ He took a breath, before making his way over. Getting in the car, he noticed Maude had stayed in the back seat rather than moving up to the front while he was gone.

Turning to the back, he spoke to the boys. "Sorry for the wait guys. Alright, now let's head to the bank and from there we can get an early lunch. _Brunch,_ technically, if you think about it. How's that sound?" The boys nodded excitedly.

"Great! Let's go." He looked over to Ned, who put the car into reverse and took off towards the bank.

It was exactly what you'd expect the First Bank of Springfield to look like. A small, homely looking building that had all the charm you'd expect from a bank that operated in Springfield.

"I'll go in with you, Ford. I happen to have a check to deposit." He was going in too? Ford would have to be careful about what Ned heard and saw. He didn't want _anyone_ to know what kind of cash he had on him _or_ in the bank.

"Sure. But let's try to be quick, those two back there look hungry enough to eat an entire cow." They shared a laugh and both men went inside.

'Laughing with the Flanders was the exact opposite of laughing with _my_ family. Instead of laughing at each other, we laughed _with_ each other. A very weird concept…or maybe I'm just jaded?'

The line was short, given it was still early and most everybody else was either at work, in school, or somewhere another such place that people with things to do went.

"Next!" That was him. Ned had gone to handle his business privately. Apparently, he was planning on setting up a business of some kind? Ford hadn't heard everything, but he didn't think it was supposed to be heard by him at all.

"Good morning. I would like to, uh, deposit this…" he leaned in and pulled the check out of his wallet. "…check for eighty-five thousand dollars into my account." He spoke quietly, more than little paranoid about being overheard.

He still wasn't sure about such a large amount of money being given to him. Wasn't that a large loss on Fat Tony's part. In reality, it would have been a rather medium sized loss to Fat Tony to randomly hand out eighty-five thousand dollars.

But Ford was a lucky man who found himself in a position that wasn't all too far off from an 'everybody wins, and nobody loses' outcome. In preventing the men in the car from escaping, he gave Fat Tony's men to discover what rival organization had done this.

In discovering who they were, he was able to act swiftly and consume their operations as a whole. And because of this, the competition he faced was lessened, the amount of money people owed him increased significantly, markets previously unavailable to him were now opened, and his pool of resources and information on other, still existing, organizations were much more detailed.

In the long run, eighty-five thousand dollars was a small price to willingly pay in the face of all the money he stood to make because of it. Plus, he was only going to get a quarter of what he currently had.

The only reason he didn't was because Anna had peaked at the Simpsons' financial records, they had an 'understanding' with mayor Quimby and asked for a 'small favor', and found them in sore need of money.

If the woman at the counter had any issues with Ford's hushed voice and the way his eyes scanned the room, then she didn't show it. Instead, she lowered her voice as well.

"A check that size will need to be cleared first. When it is cleared, perhaps three or four business days from now, you can come in and take out as much as you wish. Would you still like to cash your check?"

So I have to wait a couple days before getting my money? Damn. How am I going to pay for lunch for the five of us if I only have thirty dollars on hand and the food's expensive as hell?

"Is it possible to get _some_ of the money right now? Like, twenty bucks?" The woman smiled. "If you deposit it now, you'll have access to a portion of the amount deposited." At least he's have something.

'Whew! That would have been beyond embarrassing to have to tell Ned that I couldn't pay for everyone when I said that I would.' Ford thanked the woman, deposited the check into his account, and immediately took out three hundred dollars.

Of all the things Ford could do with three hundred dollars… buying lunch was the first he could think of. But the second! The second would be much better. As for how much better? He'd think of that after lunch.

"Thank you! Have a nice day." He turned and walked away from the teller, out to the car. It was another fifteen minutes before Ned came back from his private little meeting. Ford caught him and Maude sharing a nod in the rearview mirror, which Ford took as a sign that they were in on whatever it was together.

"Now the moment we've all been waiting for! Brunch!" Cheers rang out from the back seat. They spent the next five minutes driving around and looking for a good place before spending an hour and a half at an all you can eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner buffet.

Homer had taken them here often enough for Ford to be able to do the price calculations in his head. And since none of them ate like Homer did, the time spent there would be substantially shorter.

Overall, it was the perfect place to go eat.

After eating and paying, Ford and the Flanders drove back Evergreen Terrace. Coming up on their houses, Ford could see that no one was home yet. Which means he had time to go do something his mother would surely disapprove of.

"Hey, Ned. Could I ask for one more favor from you?" Ford hated asking for too much from Ned. Anything more than one thing a week felt like too much to ask for. "Sure thing, Ford. What do you need?"

They pulled into the driveway. Maude and the boys got out first. The boys rushing inside and pulling their mother along with them to check out a new board game Ned had bought for them on their birthday the week prior.

Which reminded him, he needed to get them a gift. Whichever one had the birthday, that is.

"I was wondering…do you and Maude have any plans to use the car for the rest of the day? Because I was hoping to follow up on a promise I made to Lisa before the accident. See, I was supposed to pick her up from school, so we could go to the Museum of Natural History before this cool exhibit on Egypt ended."

If Ford could get Ned to agree, he'd be able to run into town and pick Lisa up from school early. That's make her day. Hell, he might even grab Bart, too. Maybe. He'd decide when he got there. "But me getting into that crash really put a damper on…those…" He didn't get a chance to continue. He didn't need to.

Ned was already holding the keys out to him, visibly moved. Ford swore he could see unshed tears in Ned's eyes. "Now what kind of neighbor would I be if I didn't help you keep a promise to little Lisa? Go on and do what you need to, Ford. The Flanders will be staying in tonight!"

"Thank you, Ned. Despite the many rants my dad makes about you, you're a good neighbor _and_ a good friend." Without another word, Ned got out of the car and walked into his house. Ford, needing to change into something else, got out of the car and went inside his own house as well.

It didn't take too long to put together something comfortable and stylish. A vintage-looking brown leather jacket over a khaki green jumper, brown leather belt, cuffed blue jeans, and brown shoes had Ford looking all kinds of handsome.

He'd need to dress in something more than basketball shorts, old sneakers, and a plain t-shirt if he wanted to charm those teachers into letting him take Lisa, and possibly Bart too, out of class early.

He looked at the clock. 'School lets out at 3:45 for them. It's 1:45 now. I can be there by 2:00 if I hurry. But…that'll only give me _two_ hours to hang out since its _Thursday_ and Bart has detention while Lisa has band practice! Ah, I'm such an idiot for not realizing this sooner!'

He got all dressed up for nothing. Great. Now what was he going to do? He had Ned's car. He had two hours and a pocket full of cash to burn…what could he possibly do with his time?

He didn't like to drink, didn't have any girlfriend to speak of or _friend_ friends to take out, and…he was a complete loser, wasn't he? "Shit! I _am_ a loser, aren't I? Well, _that_ blows!" Throwing down the keys to Ned's car onto the table, thinking that maybe he should look into hanging out with people outside of the family.

'…Nah~ Maybe just a girlfriend would suffice?' There were plenty of women he knew that were interested in him. Most of them were women his mother's age, but he wasn't all too bothered by that. In fact, he was more interested in those women than he was in the girls from his high school.

Older women usually knew what they wanted and how they wanted it by the time they reached their thirties. They had the mental capacity that many girls his own age didn't. To top it all off, they were simply greater in number and… _other_ physical aspects.

Ford felt he could share in their passions, their search for a decent career, their interest in having great sex, and most especially the pursuit for that one true someone with whom they _could_ have great sex.

He may have looked like the average seventeen-year-old on the outside, but on the inside, he was so much more. He had ambition, an already chosen career he was already overqualified for in his personal opinion, the mindset to devote himself to his partner, and the means to support them once he actually _got_ the job at the plant.

That being said, he wasn't ready to have all of that thrust upon him yet. He was still only seventeen and had no plans to marry young and have children like his parents had. Getting pregnant with him at the tail end of high school was almost like a death sentence towards the rest of their lives.

It was him putting two and two together about this that set him on the path to being who he was today. Four-year-old him was still a very smart kid, despite the lack of worldly experience.

He had no understanding of the fact that they saw having him as a sign that they were meant to be together forever. Unfortunately, with Bart, Lisa, and Maggie it was less of an occasion of celebration and pure joy than it was the coming of another hungry mouth to feed.

And so, the misplaced guilt that came with being the one who ended their lives before they really started was life altering.

Anyway, now Ford was going to town for a different reason. It was time he stopped basing his social life off of his family. Instead, he should start basing it off other people as well. And with that in mind, his search for a girlfriend began.

He'd actually been thinking about this for quite some. Every weekend he ended up doing the same thing. Fridays he'd spend watching movies and television show marathons. Saturdays were spent outside the house at the gym or the library. And Sundays were the days he spent with Bart; checking his homework and helping him understand the material.

Nowhere in those three days did he meet up with kids from school. Just other Simpsons. Man…this was all starting to really depress him. Which is why he was going to start his journey through the dating scene.

But where would he start his search? He looked thought hard, trying to make a list of all the different places he could try finding women.

Moe's? 'I'd really not pick up anyone from a bar.' The church? 'That's probably not such a good idea.' The bank? 'The teller was cute, but I don't want cute. Girls are cute. Women are beautiful, and I want beautiful.'

The hospital? 'Nurse Feldman gave me her number…but I was getting more of a friend vibe more than anything else. Hmm…maybe…the school? What teachers did he know from Bart and Lisa's school?' There was Principal Skinner, who was a _man,_ so he was out.

Lisa's teacher, the one who's kind of a hard ass, was an option. According to Lisa, she was a hard ass because she was just an overall miserable person. At least, that's what Ford had gotten out of what she _really_ said.

'Who else? Who else?' Oh! Ms. Krabappel was another teacher he knew. From what he could tell, she wasn't married and she wasn't _uninterested_ in him. And that was good enough.

Ford had met her a few months ago when Bart's grades had suddenly dropped lower than ever they'd ever been before. He'd gone from getting D's and the rare C to three consecutive F's. It was very unlike Bart to get anything lower than a D if he could help it.

She'd called the house in order to get ahold of either Marge or Homer, so a parent-teacher conference could be arranged. But that day both of his parents were resolving some mess Homer had caused. So, he was the one who had to answer the phone and deal with Bart.

The meeting was what tipped him off to his brother's issues. Before that, he just assumed Bart didn't care about school. He never would have guessed that he had actual trouble learning and understanding. Ford believed that it must've been a trait he got from Homer.

But it sure did explain a lot. And the hardest part was keeping it a secret from the rest of the family. Bart was…embarrassed about his difficulties. He'd begged Ford not to tell anybody what he'd figured out.

And he didn't; much to his reluctance. Though, he promised to do so under the condition that he and Bart would work towards getting him a C average at the least. Ford would be damned if he was going to let his little brother screw himself over.

Anyway, Ford set out to the elementary school to put his plan into action. What plan? Well, technically he didn't have one yet. But he would! Just as soon as he got in the car and thought of one.


End file.
